A
prince from the Nyth Uchel mountains … a healer from the Oshtech desert …

Scornfully rejected by her desert
lover and uncertain of her place in the world, Adonia traveled a perilous road
to the fabled mountain-city of Nyth Uchel. She came to heal the sick and dying,
but in the arms of highborn prince, Hel, Adonia found the answer to saving
herself.

Descended from nobility, once
great kings of Verdantia, Hel willingly bore the burden of his dying city and
its people on his shoulders. Watching helplessly as a malingering evil attacked
the very soil under his feet, he crushed his pride to summon help. He’d been
staggered to discover the answer to saving his city and perhaps all Verdantia
might lie behind a heavy fall of chocolate hair and shy brown eyes.

As their entire planet faces an
encroaching black death, two seemingly disparate individuals forge a
partnership of love and sacrifice that will alter their future forever. All of
Verdantia will be tested.

“Yes. I know all about
soul-wraiths.” Ramsey frowned. “How did you avoid them in the past?”

“Set a perimeter of energized
diaman crystal. That will keep them at bay.” Hel smiled without humor. “I have
the diaman crystal in my saddle pack. I lack a sexual partner to energize them.
I had intended to return with a magistra but a magister will work as well. Care
to volunteer?”

Fear of the unknown almost froze
Adonia’s tongue, but she was the obvious answer. She could do this. The
opportunity would never present itself again. “I’ll be your partner.”

He would have seduced her into
the erotic world his particular carnality demanded and reveled in the
passionate response he knew he could draw from her. She would submit to him
gladly. The Goddess had created her for it. The woman gloried in serving.

Sadly, his world was not that
world any longer. Brutal practicality stripped his relationships of any
niceties and turned sex into another duty performed for those who looked to him
for protection.

Steffania shook her head in mock
sorrow. “I’ve heard it said people never grow up. They merely learn how to
behave in front of others.” She leaned over and whispered loudly, “Ramsey has done
neither.”

"It’s a delicious
contradiction. He is never more wholly mine than when I am under his total
control, in complete service to him.”

Excerpt
One:

A third male crossed his arms
over his chest and with a low rumble of laughter, relaxed his stance.
“DeHelios. Ha! The last time I saw you, you sprawled unconscious in a shrub
leaving a lovely piece of horseflesh in need of an owner.”

Hel studied the speaker. He knew
that laconic drawl—but its owner was a criminal with no love for Verdantian
nobility. What was this man doing here? “Ramsey DeKieran, you nefarious thief!
You owe me the price of that fine horse. You fell on me from a tree, you
coward. I never had a chance.”

Ramsey snorted. “Still an
egotistical ass. You should be grateful I took only the horse. Your head is
still nicely attached.” He caught the eyes of the other two men. “Gentlemen,
that tower of smelly fur is ‘Hel’. You may know him by a different name. The
Haarb called him bás dtost—the silent death.” Ramsey rolled his eyes.

Hel raised his lip in a snarl at
Ramsey’s mockery. “Such illustrious company, DeKieran. Your status in the world
seems to have risen—but then it could hardly have fallen lower.”

Ramsey grunted. “Unlikely, eh?
You may address me as Lord DeKieran, Fifteenth Earl of House DeKieran, and the
striking redhead preparing to unman you from ten feet away is my wife,
Lieutenant Colonel Steffania Rickard of the Queen’s Blue Daggers. Be careful
with your words, Hel. My vixen is wicked with a throwing knife and takes insults
to me personally.”

Hel arched an eyebrow in surprise
and nodded at the glorious redhead measuring him with amused golden eyes.
“Ma’am, my condolences on your marriage. I assume you had no choice.”

Excerpt
Two:

The small track Adonia rode
resembled a game trail more than a byway of commerce. Her horse lunged up the
steep, rock-strewn trail. In spite of the increasing difficulty in maneuvering
the grade, the constant insults and rude comments volleyed between Ramsey and
Hel lifted her foul mood with a growing sense of amusement. She heard the
frequent cackle of Steffania’s laughter and her taunting jabs at both men.

“Loyal to you, DeHelios? Ha! Your
retainers only stay because they are frozen solid to that block of ice you
inhabit. I should relieve your people of the burden of gazing on your
flea-infested, hairy face,” said Ram.

“Bring it on, dickless wonder.
There aren’t any trees for you to fall out of to give you an advantage. Your
wife inspires more fear in me. You aren’t half the man she is.”

“Oh, your death at my hand is all
but assured, DeHelios. Only the knowledge it would be pointless stays my sword.
The Hound of the Seven Hells would vomit you up as an indigestible hair ball,
and I’d be back at square one.”

Adonia pulled her horse up and
turned to face the two men. The absurdity of their exchanges had finally pushed
her over the top.

At Hel’s irritated, “What?”
hilarity welled up inside Adonia until she clutched at her belly and then her
horse’s neck to remain seated. She finally abandoned the attempt and simply
slid down and lay on her back on the rocky ground, convulsed with laughter.
Ramsey a ‘dickless wonder’? Hel an ‘indigestible hairball’?

She registered Ramsey’s, “I don’t
know. Something we said?”

She flopped her arm in the air to
motion them on and was aware Hel and Ramsey continued past her. When she opened
her eyes, she looked up at a mounted Steffania grinning down at her.

“They’re well-matched, don’t you
think?” Steffania chuckled. “One might be fooled into thinking they didn’t like
each other.”

About
the Author

Patricia A. Knight is the pen
name for an eternal romantic who lives in Dallas, Texas with her horses,
Italian Greyhounds, "Gidget the Rescue Chihuahua"—and the best man on
the face of the earth—oh yeah, and the most enormous bullfrogs you will ever
see.